I fumble my way from the warmth and cozy feeling of my comforter, to the dark, cold, tiled floor of the kitchen. It is the same routine every weekday. My alarm peacefully sings me awake, and while I contemplate hitting snooze until 6 am, I know that I need to get up now. Winnie, my scruffy and crazy Airedale, needs to be let out, coffee needs to be brewed, and lunches need to be packed. Winnie has only been with us for 10 months, but it feels like this routine has been cemented for quite some time.
Usually when I tip-toe into the kitchen, Winnie shows me the true meaning of a down-dog, lets me pet her for approximately 3 seconds, and within those 3 seconds, the energy fills her 40-pound body, and once again she is off. Jumping, bouncing, and playing. This morning, I prepared myself for the 3 seconds she would allow me to pet her, and to my amazement, she lay down beside me and lingered. She looked right into my eyes as if she knew I needed some extra snuggles, and let me pet her until I finally looked at the clock and noticed 20 minutes had flown by. This may not seem like anything special, but while Winnie is many things – including in my unbiased opinion the cutest dog in the world – she is not cuddly. She does not know how to sit herself down for more than a minute at a time. But this morning, in the dark, cold, tiled floor of my kitchen, she gave me just what I needed.